


Acceptance of Their True Selves.

by BunnyJess



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Green Lantern (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, Arkham Asylum (mentioned), Bubble Bath, Disney, Dom/sub, Dominance, F/M, Fast and Furious, Films, Fluff, Jason Todd is a Little, Kink Negotiation, Kyle Rayner is a Dom, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Mental Health Issues, Movie Night, Nicknames, No Daddy Kink, Non-Sexual Age Regression, Non-Sexual Submission, Overstimulation, PTSD, Painplay, Pet Names, Sex Toys, Smut, Submission, Subspace, Vibrators, Wonder woman pyjamas, it needs to be said again (for dom/sub) AFTERCARE!!!, master - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 00:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20349568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyJess/pseuds/BunnyJess
Summary: Kyle and Jason have been in a relationship since their trip through the multiverse. They've overcome a lot in the intervening years. Faced many a challenge. This discussion feels like their biggest one yet.





	Acceptance of Their True Selves.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Belfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belfire/gifts).

> Holy shite! I've actually posted something!!!!
> 
> Anyway...this is for the beautiful person who has fallen into my life and made it 1000000000% better! It is also a prequel to A Good Boy Gets His Master Back, so read that after this ;)

There are a lot of things Jason knew. He knew he was a control freak. Knew that his control issues were probably undiagnosed OCD, just the same as his PTSD. Jason knew that he didn’t trust psychiatrists; a side effect of growing up in Gotham, seeing the likes of Dr Crane and Quinzel become Scarecrow and Harley Quinn respectively. He knew that his team were his family. Knew that his family back in Gotham were only family on paper. Paper that was destroyed by the addition of a death certificate. Jason trusted his team, a small piece of knowledge that often scared the street kid still buried deep within him. After all, one of his earliest lessons was ‘trust no-one’ quickly followed by ‘nothing for nothing and something for something’. He’d trusted once before; thought he’d gained something for nothing. Paying the ultimate ‘something’ as a clown tore it all away.

The once red haired, blue eyed boy from the worst area of Gotham; now a red and white haired, green-blue eyed man; had thrown his lot, his life in with a weird collection of people. One human archer, one Egyptian Amazon, one defective Superman clone, and one Tamaranean. They were his family, as he was theirs. Jason also knew that there was one other person he trusted with his life. His soul. His heart.

It started out like any other relationship. _Well_, like any other relationship in the hero business. Space cop meets anti-hero. A miss-timed trip through the multiverse. Boiling hatred that turned out to be sexual tension and attraction on both sides. An Amazon with a growing need to bash their heads together.

It had taken seeing the relief Jason felt at finding a Batman that killed the Joker, at seeing a Batman killed by a different Joker, for the once Green Lantern to accept that Jason wasn’t the way he was on purpose but by design. He started taking steps to break down any and every wall that Jason had built around his heart; tearing them down without a backwards glance. He had approached the end goal of a relationship in every form as one would an injured and skittish foul.

That had been two half-teams and _many_ years ago. They’d seen each other grow. Had been there when those that they’d loved had hurt them. Had been there when they’d lost people; more Jason there for Kyle as Jason’s team had never strayed and eventually formed into a quintet of Outlaws. Above all else, they built a trust that enabled Jason to release his control. To place his pleasure, his pain, his being in someone else.

It led them to where they currently stand. Well, stand is more a figure of speech considering they’re both sat comfortably on the sofa in the Outlaw’s home. A sea breeze wafting in delicately through the windows trying to cut through the nervous energy that was sparking between the couple.

The White Lantern ring has been placed aside. As have the red helmet and weapons. Stripped to their basic comfortable clothing. About to strip themselves to a level of emotional and mental nakedness neither has felt before. Despite all this, or maybe because of all this, they hold hands a little tighter than normal. Neither one wanting to lose the other.

As with most of their relationship, it’s Kyle that takes that first step. That enables Jason to let his walls down and let Kyle in that last little bit. “So, I love our relationship. All of it, including the sex. I just,” he huffs out a breath, frustrated at not being the wordsmith between the two of them. He is better at drawing Jason, at breaking down the base materials that make him up and showing just how beautifully powerful the man at his side really is. He could paint all he wants to say, draw it in a series of interlinked comic panels. Hell, he could probably construct it all with his ring. None of that matters when he needs to use words instead.

“I have always wanted to be dominant with someone, as you know.” Kyle finally starts up properly. They’d been dipping a toe into the world of BDSM. Simple things like light bondage, dressing up, and orgasm denial. Now, thanks to them both feeling like something was missing, they’d done their research and were talking…at last. “I’ve been watching you be in control, almost too tightly, for years and I want to help you relax. You know, let go of that and let someone else be the one holding the reigns.”

Jason’s OCD was trying to flair up at the idea of his life being so disrupted. Last time he gave someone so much control over his life, over his body, he’d wound up dead. This time however, he knows he trust Kyle. Knows it deep in his bones, the same way he knows that Roy tells lousy jokes but builds amazing machines and the same way he knows that Biz looks like he could rip you apart but would sooner snuggle a bunch of baby animals. He knows he can trust Kyle with everything. They’ve talked about it before. Hell, they even share a _fetlife_ account to make it easier to understand each other’s kinks.

Before he can get a word out, he feels a hand carding through his hair. Tugging his red and white curls away from his face. Jason raises his sight up too look over at his love, his partner in everything except work. There is a softness to his usually angular features. The warm island sun adding a heathy glow to his usually space-drained latinx pallor. He was breathtakingly beautiful when he was as sun kissed as his current break allowed him to become. Some days appearing so otherworldly to Jason that he felt like he wasn’t enough for the Lantern.

They had been spending months, as Kyle could only get cell service in certain areas of space, swapping blog pages of their interests. Still, the idea of telling Kyle what he wanted was scary. As it would be for anyone. Once again, the artist stole the words from the linguist. “You want me to be your Dom, to have you be my little one.” Kyle watched Jason carefully as he said his next words, “you want to be my good boy.” He watched a shiver run down Jason’s body, his pupils dilate, and his body relax into the sofa. The title reassuring something in him. “You know something Jace?” He moved so he could grip Jason’s chin in his hand tightly, ensuring that the other man had to look into his eyes and read his face. “I want you to be my little one. You going to be a good boy for me?”

That simple question had the desired effect when mixed with the tight hold on his chin. Jason shuddered hard. His breath hitching as he saw the truth radiating from Kyle stronger than his ring ever could. He gave as small a nod as he could. The hand never lessening.

Kyle moved his other hand to run through Jason’s hair, down to the back of his neck and give it a squeeze. “You remember your safe word and our colour system?”

Jason went to nod again but could see the hard look falling over Kyle’s face. “Yes Master,” he was breathless, subspace slipping over him quickly. “Blue for go, yellow for if I need a minute, red to stop when you check in.” His voice was stuttering, the words trying to cling to his tongue to hide from his true self. “Chilli-dog.” He’s trembling slightly, excitement making his muscles a little too sproingy.

A hum fills Jason’s ears and he finds the strength to look up into fierce green eyes. “Good boy.” The statement causes Jason to let out a whimper. Luckily, thanks to _hours_ of research, Kyle can see how quickly his little one is falling into subspace and pulls it back a bit. He doesn’t want him to fall too quickly to end up having a sub drop during their first proper use of titles. Using his free hand he grips the back of Jason’s neck, giving it a squeeze. “Here is what you’re going to do. You listening to your Master my Little Boy?”

One simple little nod. The black-haired White Lantern squeezes Jason’s neck again. “You are going to go into your room and put on those Wonder Woman pyjamas. I want you to make sure they’re the pair that are a tank-top and shorts, okay?”

“Yes Master?” It’s clear as day that Jason is confused. He’d thought Kyle was going to use him. To turn him into a sex doll, a cumdump. Instead he’s wanting him to get changed. Everything is warring inside Jason’s mind. He knows how those exact pyjamas make him feel. They enable his regression unlike anything else he’s ever felt. They provide a sense of freedom that even his team have never been able to give him. One simple set of clothing wraps him up in a safety blanket of youth that he’s never truly been able to have. His questioning voice gets him a sharp glare and a second squeeze to the back of the neck, this one harder than the last. Jason casts his gaze down, “lo siento Master.”

Kyle knows he’s truly sorry as he slipped into his first language. A language he never used when around the Batfamily. It didn’t feel right to Jason to use the language that his Mamá had taught him with people who only saw him as family on days that didn’t end in a _y_. “Good boy, now off you go Munchkin.” The soothing timbre of Kyle’s voice seemed to seep through into Jason’s bones and had him rising to his feet quickly.

Scarred skin disappeared beneath the red t-shirt and blue shorts of Jason’s pyjamas. The items designed to look like a sleepwear version of Diana’s costume. Feeling a touch too cold on his legs, jagged scars breaking up the smoothness of muscle and providing visual evidence for Jason’s poor circulation, the young outlaw also picked out a pair of over-the-knee fluffy socks in red. The same red as his helmet. Kori had knitted them when she’d been on a crafting kick, determined to learn different Earth relaxation crafts. If Jason’s memory served him correctly, the alien had knitted him the socks and Roy a pair of long gloves that reminded them both of animated princesses. She’d found the items amusing to make before moving on to a different activity.

The socks were just warm enough to settle comfort into his lower limbs. Further enabling him to curl up on the bed with the TV turned to the Disney movies. They were a hidden pleasure. A secret source of enjoyment he’d rediscovered after forming his team, after finding his family. Even managing to catch up on the raft of films he’d missed out on while dead and then a mentally ill assassin.

Jason knew he was better now. Knew in the way he’d let so many people in. Knew in the way he had contact with Tim and Stephanie occasionally. He knew it as he looked down at himself and saw his scarred limbs on display while he wore a pair of pyjamas he’d never had dared let anyone see in the past, before Kyle tore down every wall he had and refused to allow to be rebuilt.

As the tinkling music of the Disney logo filled the room, Beauty and The Beast having been the chosen film. It often was due to how much Jason loved Belle fixing her own fate and saving those she loves. He also resonated with Beast. Feeling like he was Beast before Kyle and that his love now enabled the outlaw to bloom into his own version of Prince Adam. Jason slipped further down the bed so he could curl up on his side, thumb coming up to his mouth mindlessly.

It was a sight to behold for the White Lantern. His massive, intimidating partner curled up on the bed looking smaller than his younger brother. In one hand he held still warm popcorn while the other held a soft toy he’d picked up prior to returning to the island after his last trip to space. It was a super soft and fluffy white bear. Something completely unremarkable to most, for Kyle it meant his love being able to cuddle with him even while he was away. He’d even given it a couple of squirts of his cologne so it’d smell of him. A task he’d repeat every time he had to leave.

As he walked further into the room he noticed Jason’s thumb and the rhythmic movements of his cheeks. Movements he was _intimately_ familiar with. Kyle knew his first thought should have been _I’ll give him something better to suck on_ and slightly more along the lines of _he is just too adorable_. It just couldn’t be helped though. Jason’s mouth was talented and he could feel a bulge growing in his trousers at the sight.

“So what have you picked to watch?” Kyle asked in a vain attempt to distract himself from his thoughts.

Jason let out a little hum as he shuffled around, his head falling into Kyle’s lap. “Huh? Oh, Belle.” The answer was muffled as Jason hadn’t removed his thumb. An action that did little to help Kyle’s growing situation and fraying nerves.

Remembering the bear still firmly in his grip, Kyle passed it to Jason. Ensuring it was tucked under his arm. “Just a little something I picked up for you to cuddle especially when I’m gone.” A snort escaped Jason that turned into a whimper at the reminder of his _Master_ leaving him sooner than they’d both like. Kyle had been underselling the bear. It was easily the size of Jason’s torso for better cuddling capabilities from a slightly bigger than average man.

The buttery, sweet-salty goodness of the popcorn slowly disappeared. Upbeat Disney songs about being different and french dinners fills the room. All while Jason slowly seems to shuffle and curl further onto Kyle’s lap until the Lantern finds himself holding the other man fully in the dip of his own crossed legs.

He feels the tension seep out of Jason. The muscles that are often held rigid slowly uncurling, loosening into a more normal state. As normal a state as the muscles of a Bat progeny/ex-assassin can get. Still, it’s the closest Kyle has felt Jason get to being a pile of boneless human goo without a round of vigorous sex and subspace. It warms some deeply primal part of his heart; that _he_ is the reason one of the most wanted people on the planet could relax feels oddly freeing.

No expectations were being placed on them. Kyle wasn’t the only White Lantern. Jason wasn’t Red Hood, leader of the Outlaws. In that king-sized bed, amongst the soft cotton bedding; they could just be. Just live in the moment. Be themselves. Without limits. Without fear. Surrounded by love.

As the film nears the final fight, Kyle notices Jason turning further into him. Pressing a kiss to his forehead he wonders just what could be the cause. Then he remembers. Remembers hearing from Hal about Jason being shoved into Arkham by the new Bat and Bird. Remembers feeling the anger so visceral coursing through his being at the sheer audacity of locking Jason up in the same building as his murderer. The shit show he’d caused by breaking him out in a streak of blinding green light still spoken about in hushed whispers. Maurice is being forced into the back of a carriage, the insane asylum governor being his creepy self.

He manages to withhold his sigh. Before the ‘Arkham Incident’ Beauty and The Beast has been one of Jason’s secret favourite films. One that not even his adoptive family knew he loved. “Baby, you didn’t know this was going to get to you; did you?” His voice is just loud enough to be heard over Maurice’s shouting about a beast. Although, to Kyle, static has taken its place as his attention focuses on his partner with an intensity not usually seen outside of his studio.

There is a slight shake of a head and an even smaller whimper. Both actions pointing Kyle in the direction he needs to turn this evening to make it salvageable. He runs the odds of Jason suffering a subdrop; adding in the aftercare and general cuddling that can help prevent one. Every option shows that him taking more command of the situation will help.

Reaching up, Kyle grips the back of Jason’s neck and squeezes hard. His eyes drop, blatant lust making them hazy. Using his hold, Kyle tugs in an all too familiar way. The message is quickly received and Jason leans forward to join their lips.

It’s obvious how much Jason needs to float in the all-encompassing thoughtless void of submission when he doesn’t try to deepen the kiss. It stays at the pace Kyle sets, teeth and tongue only appearing when he makes the first move. Usually there is a fight. A pretence of Jason’s dominance and refusal to back down, of submitting to another person.

Not now though.

Not when his shorts are already tight. Whimpers turning to moans when Kyle pulls his neck away from him for clear access to his lovers neck. Biting along the jaw and sucking on the sensitive skin near Jason’s pounding pulse.

When Kyle eventually pulls away it’s a sight to behold. Jason, one of the most formidable fighters in the world is flushed and panting in his lap. Eyes closed and a light sheen of sweat already coating his brow. Despite them only having just gotten started.

“Colour?” He growls at his partner.

Jason answers a quick blue, not yet deep enough to check in with his mind and body.

A sharp shove and Jason tumbles out of his lap. His eyes spring open but he doesn’t move from where he’s splayed across the bedspread, legs open as wide as his eyes and hands twisting into the quilt. “You’re going to lay on your back and keep your hands to yourself. If I catch you touching me or yourself you’ll be punished; do as I say and you’ll be rewarded.” Kyle’s tone brokers no room for disagreement when paired with the dark smirk gracing his usually friendly and open features.

As Jason moves into position Kyle goes over to their chest of drawers. Opening the second from bottom reveals a treasure trove of toys they’ve both collected from across the universe. He peruses the collection, finally settling on keeping things simple as he doesn’t want to push Jason too hard but still wants him to slip deep.

Wand plugged in, and lube thrown on the bed, Kyle picks up two more items. One is a spiked pinwheel for misdirection. The other is more standard; a cock and ball ring is in a violet the same shade as the star sapphire power. It’s a favourite of Kyle’s. The couple also own a cock ring and butt plug in the same colour. For those times he wants Jason to have a flash of his work colours on him.

It starts with fingertips ghosting over those muscular thighs that have remained open. Moving towards the shorts that need to go. Kyle smiles down at Jason as he’d diligently kept his eyes on the ceiling so he couldn’t see what Kyle was getting out. It makes a flush of pride swamp his heart. A heart he’d once thought shrivelled up because of Alex, Donna, and many others. He pulls the shorts down _painfully_ slowly. Fascinated by how they catch and cling to Jason’s hard cock before it springs free.

The blue shorts cause countless ripples as they continue dragging along the scarred muscles of Jason’s legs. Ensuring his fingers don’t catch the socks, Kyle finally pulls the shorts off. The catch in Jason’s breathing guides Kyle on how _his_ sub is doing. On if he’s already experiencing too much and needs a break in the scene. The hitch is enough for Kyle to carry on. He drops the shorts across Jason’s eyes. Blocking his vision while picking up the pinwheel after slicking his hand with lube.

Using the sharp points as a distraction, running it at varying speeds up Jason’s left leg, Kyle wraps his hand around the weeping cock between those legs. It’s a simple, cold touch. Purely to get his cock lubed up. He does the same to Jason’s ballsack. As both hands are used to put the cock ring in place he uses his teeth to bite on the sparse scar-free skin of Jason’s abdomen that’s become exposed thanks to him writhing and pushing his t-shirt up. Jason whines as he feels the familiar tension exerted by the silicone. It’s a broken, needy thing that shoots pleasure straight down Kyle’s spine and feeds that dominant persona he hides from everyone but Jason.

With the rings in place Kyle picks up the wand and switches it on. The sound of its vibration makes Jason twitch but he doesn’t move to touch. “Good boy with not touching.” He checks his submissive over once again, ensuring he’s ready after each stage. Jason looks to be floating already. His chest is heaving in a ragged rhythm. There is a blush across most of his face and chest, matched in intensity by the sheen of sweat that’s making him glow. He flips the shorts off Jason’s eyes and are met with a piercing blue albeit hazy gaze. The only time Kyle ever gets to see the Pit green recede is when they’ve been experimenting with subspace. Almost as if the volatile and violent magic of the tainted green waters can’t withstand the pure positivity, safety, and pleasure subspace brings. It’s the biggest clue as to how quickly Jason has slipped under meaning he’ll need to be helped to raise out of its depths slowly to help prevent a drop.

“Jason I need a colour.” Kyle’s voice is just as commanding as if he were organising a band of heroes. The dominant personality being as unsurprising for Kyle as Jason being a submissive is surprising.

The tone cuts through the haze already entrenched in Jason’s mind. He works his fingers into the comforter while cataloging his mind with minimal movement. Both men know how precious Jason finds the sensation in fingers and hands, how there are still days where he either feels too much or not enough from breaking through an overly extravagant coffin. It’s the only permissible movement of his hands that is aloud within the instructions Kyle gave him. As the haze sweeps back in and his sensation remains normal Jason is finally able to get out a muttered colour.

“Jay, baby, I need you to repeat that. Can you do that for Master?” It’s all about getting Jason to admit when he’s reached his limit and not just accept whatever Kyle gives him, especially if it’ll lead to them being unsafe or him feeling used in the wrong way.

“Azul.” The strength in Jason’s voice surges as he gives the go ahead.

Kyle doesn’t respond. Just lets one hand gently tease a nipple through the shirt while the other gets back to work with the pinwheel. This time letting the spikes trail up the underside of his partner’s flushed cock.

Jason gasps. “Master, tha- Oh fuck!” He shuddered as Kyle moved the pinwheel to trail across the sensitive skin of his thighs. Distraction achieved he picked the wand back up and pressed the vibrating bulb hard against Jason’s perineum. He watches as the other man almost jolts off the bed, pleasure shooting up his spine in counterpoint to the pain his other hand is still causing.

The session needs to be short. That’s something Kyle worked out before they’d even started. The discussion of their new roles and his sexually shy other half finally embracing his true self had been too stressful to go for longer. Luckily, it doesn’t take long to get the other man deep into subspace and fully mewling incoherencies. As such, he chooses to drop the pinwheel off the bed (the only reason they hide their toys is so Kori can’t pilfer them) and start working Jason open.

With the wand moved to just below the head of his cock, Kyle works one lubed finger past the tight ring of muscle. No matter how often they have sex Jason’s body always remains tight, like a perfectly fitting pair of leather gloves. The cold lube and probing finger earn him a curse so he pauses to ensure it’s not going to be followed by chilli-dog. When it isn’t he works it in a random rhythm. Hard and soft touches. Fast and slow thrusts. It doesn’t take long for Kyle to move on to two and then three fingers. Thoroughly enjoying the squelch of the lube as he works _his_ submissive open.

Kyle turns off the wand just as he hears Jason starting to talk. The rough gravel from a throat dried out with each panting breath sending a dark sort of thrill through him. “Please Master. Please. _Please_, have I been good? Have I been your good boy? Please, I need you to. It’s yours Master. Use your hole. Please.” Jason’s babbling is one of the most erotic sounds Kyle’s ever heard. The way he hitches on the please, the vague uncertainty when asking if he’d been good. The vibrant natural blue eyes blown wide with lust locked onto him; just shimmering with want, need, love.

He keeps his fingers pumping while he moves to tower over the ex-crime lord. His other hand is placed beside Jason’s head to keep all his weight off him, denying him the reward of skin-to-skin and warmth. Kyle lets his lips trail teasing kisses along the tan, pierced ear beside him. Hot breath making the shivers worse. “Baby, you’ve been so good. My good boy.”

The words work and Jason whines as the Lantern removes his fingers. Quickly changing into a keening moan as he replaces them with his lubed up cock in one swift move. “Always my good boy.”

Grunts of effort and pleasure intermingle with moans of ecstasy and muttered endearments. Praise whispered into ears causing an almost painful clench. Thrusts turning erratic as both men start to reach their peak.

“Master. M-m-m-mas-_master_, please, have I been good enough for you to mark? Please, please cum in me Master. Need you to. Need you to fill me up; mark me as yours.” Jason’s babbling reaches a crescendo but his body doesn’t peak. Refuses to peak.

Kyle slams in harder and faster. Moving so he can lock eyes with the man beneath him. “You’ve been so good. Such a good little cock sleeve. Going to use you as a cum dump. Don’t cum until I take those rings off though baby boy, okay?”

Jason feels the shots of Kyle’s release as the head of the man’s cock pounds into his prostate. The warmth from the gloopy fluid calming those last remaining grains of instability. Despite still being worked up. Still needing to cum. He feels boneless and content. Knows this is the best his head has ever been reset.

The hand on his cock surprises him as Kyle still hasn’t pulled out. Letting his body become overstimulated to give his lover the connection and contact he craves during his orgasm. Kyle pulls the rings off and presses his weight down onto Jason. His lips a hairsbreadth away from the others plump, bitten and red ones.

“Come for Master, _my _Little One.”

Those six little words. Felt more than heard are all it takes for the Red Hood to see stars. Back arching. “Master.” Screamed to the sky. To the gods. Screamed in such reverence; such adulation, that it nearly bowled the Lantern over. Hot, wet, thick ejaculate coating both their lower stomachs.

Pulling out forces a pained whine out of the submissive. His loosened hole feeling far too empty. The marking from _his_ dominant slowly trickling out. Jason can vaguely hear the quiet shushing; feel the gentle, grounding touches along his ribs. All coalescing in him being scooped up into strong arms. Arms that have held him through his worst days and nights. Arms that always signal safety. Signal the capacity to let _all_ his walls down, not just those that his friends had smashed down.

A thick fluffy robe is wrapped around him after Kyle seats Jason on the bathroom counter. An equally fluffy towel underneath to protect him from the cold metal. Kisses are pressed to his forehead just as Kyle steps away.

Distantly, Jason can hear the sounds of their strong water pressure hitting the bottom of the bathtub and the squelch of bubble bath being squeezed out. None of that matters right in that moment. All that matters is that there are no voices in his head. No itchy green constantly trying to take over. No anger threatening to explode into rage. No damning purple-green laughter. Just sweet, pure, blissful stillness.

In what feels like it’s both twenty seconds and twenty hours, Kyle’s strong tanned arms are once again around Jason’s body. His pulse fluttering at the show of strength. His body sagging into the firm hold despite the chill from losing the robe. A chill that’s quickly replaced by a delightful wet warmth. The sloshing of water the only sounds in the room in that moment.

Jason’s already relaxed body, somehow, manages to relax further. The boneless sensation of before reaching a truly gelatinous stage as the just a touch too hot water ends up higher than his nipples. A fact that makes him giggle. The sound makes Kyle smile. It’s so innocent and free. Completely different to the usual huffed chuckle or booming cackle.

“I’m going to wash you now baby boy.” Kyle remembering that the term is for someone who regresses to a young age but not as young as a toddler or infant. He finds the red washcloth on the side of the extra large claw footed tub and dips it into the water. After wringing it out he gently wipes it over Jason’s face, hearing a pillow-soft sigh at the attention. He takes the same gentle care with washing the rest of the scarred man. Only making an exception when it comes to cleaning away their cloudy release. A little firmness needed to ensure no slimy sensation remains, something that both men hate the feel of.

Looking over the red hair, Kyle decides to leave it for now. He could wash it but would sooner get Jason back into his arms and pick out a different animated film for them to watch. He hangs up the cloth and relays his plans to Jason as he rises to his feet.

When Kyle gets back into the bathroom, after retrieving a new bath sheet and pyjamas for them both, he’s greeted with a sight that makes him laugh happily. Jason has come out of subspace at the perfect speed and has re-entered a regressed state; if the bubble beard is any indication. He used the towel to wipe it away and smiles as he helps his lover stand. “What am I going to do with you? You silly, perfect man.” Jason tried to cringe away at the terms used. Unfortunately for him he’s chosen an artist to love, one who is obsessive about the details, and so he notices the reaction. “I’m so sorry Little One. I meant you’re my silly, perfect Little. Always _my_ Little, okay.” Its not a question. Just a statement of a fact. A fact both men have finally been able to accept.

Clad in a matching set of pyjamas, the top and baggy trousers in a deep navy with Hope Corgi all over them, they snuggle into the bed. Remembering Jason’s earlier reaction, and not wanting to undo all his work, Kyle picks out the Fast and the Furious film set in Brazil. It’s always fun to watch the franchise with Jason as he loves to point out the inconsistencies along with admiring the vehicles and veritable feast of weapons used.

_Yes_, Kyle thinks as Jason snuggles closer to his chest with a hand grasping his t-shirt just over his heart and already talking about the cars, _we’ve made a good set of decisions today. There is no-one out there more perfectly suited to be my sub than this dangerously handsome and caring man_. He presses a kiss into the red locks and just breathes in the scent of handmade tropical soap (another of Kori’s forays into human crafts), gunpowder, and a spiciness that’s pure Jason.

They may have been together for years already, but all relationships have to grow and change to survive. Especially those as long distance as theirs can be at times. In the past they’d have shied away from talking, from admitting their needs and desires. As that is what today has been about; their needs, not wants. Instead they talked and it resulted in one of their best sexual encounters. Both getting such satisfaction that they were asleep before the film finished and ended up sleeping through Roy setting fire to the kitchen and Kori shouting at him for destroying _another_ dishwasher.

([A Good Boy Gets His Master Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15476295))


End file.
